


On The Care Of Children

by ThatFeanorian



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Baby Gil-galad, Everything is happy, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gil is a difficult child, I have no idea when this is set but here it is, I just wanted my bois to be happy, No Angst, SO MUCH FLUFF, Slice of Life, as he should be, baby food is feanor's greatest invention, except for Gil when he doesn't get his apple, this is all fluff, very demanding and stubborn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27869517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatFeanorian/pseuds/ThatFeanorian
Summary: Maedhros wakes up early, hoping to share a quiet moment with his husband, but everything is put to a halt when their son begins crying from the next room...
Relationships: Ereinion Gil-galad & Fingon | Findekáno, Ereinion Gil-galad & Maedhros | Maitimo, Fingon | Findekáno & Maedhros | Maitimo, Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo
Comments: 7
Kudos: 48





	On The Care Of Children

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starlightwalking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/gifts).



Maedhros winced as the light burned the inside of his eyelids a bright red, jerking him into wakefulness. He rubbed his eyes in pure exhaustion and sat up blearily, trying to judge the approximate time and cursed as he realized that it was barely past the first mingling. Clearly, someone had neglected to close their curtains the night before. 

He stomped across the room and pulled the thick navy drapes closed and turned back to get in bed only to find Fingon somehow sprawled diagonally across the entire thing, his mouth half-open and light snores escaping his throat. Despite his previous terrible mood, the sight of Fingon laying there relaxed and completely passed out brought a smile to his face. He walked back over to the bed and gently slid a hand beneath Fingon’s back, scooting him over to his own side of the bed, and climbed in after him, wrapping his long limbs tightly around his husband. Letting out a long sigh as his frustration drained out of him, Maedhros closed his eyes again.

A long wail pierced the perfect silence and Maedhros groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and praying to the Valar that his son would  _ be quiet _ for once, but the wail descended into loud sobs and Maedhros reluctantly detangled himself from Fingon’s sleeping form and exited the room grumbling,

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Under his breath.

In the next room over, Erenion Gil-Galad, aged 6 months, lay kicking at the air angrily and screaming at the top of his lungs. His face was almost as red as his tufts of fiery hair and in his tiny fists, a stuffed rabbit lay with one arm missing. Where the other arm was, Maedhros had no idea.

“Shh, baby, darling, it’s okay, Atya’s here now. I’ve got you.” Maedhros cooed as he scooped Gil-Galad into his arms. His son, instead of kicking at the air, began kicking at Maedhros’s stomach and wailed even louder, turning his head so that he was screaming directly into Maedhros’s ear. Cursing internally, Maedhros hurried over to the open door and shut it, hoping that he hadn’t woken anyone while bouncing Gil-Galad gently in his arms and murmuring comfort. 

Really, Maedhros thought, he couldn’t remember any of his brothers being this fussy. There hadn’t been a single night since his birth that Gil-Galad hadn’t woken up at least five times screaming bloody murder until he was fed and held and Maedhros had fallen asleep in a chair. It was, he reflected, almost a miracle that he had managed to get so much uninterrupted sleep that night before. Or perhaps, Gil-Galad had woken up and he had simply been much too exhausted to register the fact that his son was sobbing in the next room over. 

As Gil-Galad landed a particularly hard kick right between his ribs, Maedhros let out a long exhausted sigh and laid him back in his crib, causing a fresh wave of ear-piercing shrieks.

“Listen, okay, shhh, darling, I’m just going to get you food and then--” With surprising strength, the rabbit who was missing an arm was hurled upwards and bounced off Maedhros’s nose, effectively shutting him up. Maedhros felt a bit like crying himself as he reached down and put the rabbit back into the crib, once again pulling Gil-Galad into his arms and cradling him tightly against his chest as his son screamed in his arms. 

“Okay then… I guess we can go together.” Maedhros muttered. Gil-Galad reached up with a tiny sweaty hand and began tugging on a stray strand of Maedhros’s hair which Maedhros didn’t have the heart to take away from him because at least he had quieted down somewhat. Hurrying down the halls as fast as he dared with a baby in his arms, Maedhros glanced nervously at every door he passed, wondering why everyone in their family had chosen to live on top of one another when they had a whole palace full of rooms to choose from. Hopefully, Gil-Galad hadn’t been crying loudly enough that he had woken any of them up. The last thing he needed at that moment was for a tired and angry Celegorm to come slamming out of his room and swearing at the top of his voice.

Maedhros was amazed when they made it to the kitchens with no further incidents and he carefully set Gil-Galad on his stomach on top of the table, keeping a careful eye on him as he tried to put something together which Gil would be able to eat. 

The last time his son had exercised his new skill of rolling, he had nearly fallen off their bed, and only Maedhros’s quick reflexes and Fingon’s terrified scream had stopped him from hitting the ground. 

When Maedhros turned back with a bowl of orangey mush that Fëanor had called ‘baby food,’ one of his first inventions, he was surprised to find Gil-Galad looking at him curiously, completely silent, somehow having managed to knock over a bowl full of apples.

“Oh, Valar,” Maedhros muttered, setting the bowl of orange mush on the table and pulling Gil into his arms, “You just love to cause trouble, don’t you?” Gil-Galad giggled and tugged on Maedhros’s hair,

“Ah-ga-ga-ga,” he replied, grabbing another chunk of hair and pulling Maedhros’s entire head forwards. 

“Ow,” Maedhros exclaimed, surprised, then sat down, in a chair, sitting Gil on his lap. He reached up to try to disentangle his hair from Gil-Galad’s fingers, but at the sudden squawk of protest this garnered, he quickly stopped. It was perhaps better to keep his son happy than to try to keep his hair out of harm’s way. 

“Ahh,” Maedhros murmured, spooning the orange mixture into Gil-Galad’s open mouth. To his utter astonishment, Gil-Galad actually swallowed silently, looking up at him with angelically innocent blue eyes-- Fingon’s eyes. 

“Ba?” He asked pointing at the fallen apples and Maedhros raised an eyebrow, watching him warily and wondering if it would be pushing his luck to say no. 

“That’s an apple, little one, they’re too hard for you to eat right now.” He said quietly, and Gil-Galad’s face immediately screwed up in concentration as he glared at Maedhros and pointed again,

“ _ Ba _ .” He repeated loudly, and Maedhros very carefully brought another spoonful of the orange baby food to his mouth, shaking his head slightly,

“Here, I’ve got food for you, silly, you don’t need the apple too.” Gil-Galad opened his mouth with a look of intense skepticism on his face and slowly let the spoon into his mouth, to Maedhros’s relief. He swallowed the bite and then pointed at the apple again, 

“BA.” Maedhros closed his eyes, gathering every ounce of patience he has, and shook his head,

“Gil, darling, you can’t have the apple. I’m sorry.” He said firmly, bringing the spoon up once more to his son’s mouth, but this time Gil-Galad swatted it away, sending the orange mush flying across the room and landing on the floor a few feet away. 

“ _ BA.”  _ He shrieked and kicked his tiny feet angrily against Maedhros’s legs. 

“No!” Maedhros said, a little more aggressively than he had intended and Gil-Galad let out a wail, wrapping his little hands around Maedhros’s hair again and yanking at it as hard as he could, his eyes squeezed shut as he screamed. Utterly exhausted, Maedhros gave up, reaching across the table and grabbing an apple. 

“Here.” He said shortly, placing the apple in Gil-Galad’s lap, but hearing his tone of voice, Gil-Galad pushed the apple onto the floor and grabbed at Maedhros’s shirt, his screams turning into sobs as he rubbed his messy face into the shirt. 

“Shhhh, baby, it’s okay… Come here.” Maedhros turned Gil-Galad around in his arms and pulled up so that he could bury his face in Maedhros’s neck, his sobs turning into hiccups as Maedhros apologized over and over gently rocking him back and forth. 

“B-ba?” He sniffed, and Maedhros, thoroughly terrified of making him cry again, got a different apple from the table and placed it in his son’s grip. 

“There you go. Are you done eating or do you want more?” He asked tiredly, and Gil-Galad let out a happy squeak, clapping his hands together and smiling toothlessly up at Maedhros. 

“Ba!” He said happily and Maedhros felt his heart melt a little at the expression of pure joy on his face. Gil squeezed the apple in his tiny hands and snuggled against Maedhros, squeaking contentedly, and Maedhros let out a little sigh, hugging his son against his chest, and as the sun rose just a little higher in the sky, burning bright through the windows of the kitchen, everything was perfect.


End file.
